"Mr. Lovegood, please have a seat!" Liam Graves gestured for Wizet to sit down. "I just arrived as well."
"I know more or less what happened last night. Not only did you protect the night patrol team, but you also foiled the No-Maj Mafia's plot."
"For your contributions last night, whether as Paul and the others' superior or as Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I must offer you my most sincere thanks."
"Mr. Graves, you're being far too polite!" Wizet said with a wave of his hand. "I merely happened to be there and did what I could."
"Besides, Joseph Bonanno's target was M.S.C. I was also clearing trouble away for M.S.C. Without Mr. Smith and the others' help, handling what came afterward would have been very troublesome."
Hearing Wizet say this, Liam Graves sighed to himself.
It had been the same decades ago, and it was still the same decades later. Why did outstanding wizards like Wizet always appear at Hogwarts instead of Ilvermorny?
For some reason, Liam Graves suddenly thought of another wizard—Albus Dumbledore.
Wizet and Albus Dumbledore both seemed to possess a knack for reducing earth-shattering matters to nothing more than "a small effort";
as though the towering waves before them were no different from ripples lapping in a teacup.
Though the two were somewhat alike, Liam Graves could also sense that there were fundamental differences between them.
Beyond his own abilities, Dumbledore's display of effortless composure carried a sense of control born from the accumulation of years;
Liam Graves had not interacted much with Dumbledore, but he had always found Dumbledore mysterious, shrouded in a hazy, indistinct feeling;
when speaking with Dumbledore, he often had to painstakingly speculate how many unstated intentions and secrets lay behind Dumbledore's words.
Yet when Liam Graves spent